


The Sport of Námo

by WaywardDesertKnight



Series: Coming Home to You [2]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Background Finweans, F/M, Post-mortem, Quenya Names Used, References to past trauma, Sibling Bonding, mild disturbing imagery, re-embodiment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-04-24 11:23:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4917685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaywardDesertKnight/pseuds/WaywardDesertKnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One way in, two ways out, that is the way of the Halls of Mandos. The easy way out, have a loved one speak with the master of the Halls. But for most the second way is the only way. For two who shaped the fate of Middle-earth, this is that way. One wants to see his family again, the other can never leave. They'll come out wiser and more understanding of one another, since one cannot kill the dead, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Accident or Fate?

Of all the times that he awakened in the Halls of Mandos, this had to be the most deliberate. To be fair it was not specifically an 'awakening' more an awareness of existing within the Halls. He'd done it once before, though the image in his mind of it was hazy at best. Something drew him to a door within the vast wall that formed the eternal, peaceful labyrinth. At his touch the door cracked open, it was just wide enough for him to squeeze through. Curiosity, ever the bane of the Noldo prince, drew him through it. His awareness strengthened, the wild dancing coils of fire quelled enough to form limbs, limbs now shot through with intricate twists of color, greens and blues among the normal red-gold coils.

He had a wife, Nerdanel Rúnyawen Mahtaniel.

He had seven sons, Nelyafinwë, Canafinwë, Turkafinwë, Morifinwë, Curufinwë, Pityafinwë, and Telufinwë.

He had a name of his own, Curufinwë Fëanáro Finwion.

None of these things had even remotely crossed his mind, in how long he could not fathom. Memory after memory flooded back, his parents. His mother's death. His father's. The first time he had met Nerdanel, his apprenticeship under Mahtan, dinner at their house. Fresh baked breads and curries. Helyanwë wondering when he would propose to her eldest daughter. Running through the fields of Tirion naked beneath the light of Telperion.

He dropped to his knees, fingers clawed at the thin threads of deep red fire that made what passed for his hair.

Nerdanel

It hurt to much to think of her. Thoughts of her soon clouded. Emotions he had not felt in a very long time returned. It hurt to feel again. The numb serenity of the Halls had forsaken him. Alone in this dark room, it became unbearable. Rage. His father's broken body. The theft of his treasures. His sons' innocence or the Silmarils? Fear. What had happened to them? Were they safe and well?

Guilt

A foreign feeling to Fëanáro since he had first conceived the Silmarils. He had taken away what remained of his children's innocence. They had seen death. They had killed. They had killed at his order. He could imagine, too clearly, the tears that had marred her perfect dark eyes, rich as the earth, deep as the night. He had put those tears there.

Push it back.

Don't think on it. Fight on.

He shook away his memories, the memories that plagued this place of absence.

Curufinwë Fëanáro Finwion would not be ruled by guilt.

His attention turned to a flicker of light out of the corner of his eye just to the left. The light solidified into another being, they appeared to be made of water, but he glimpsed the way his own fire caught faceted in the edges of the other's shape, ice then? His eyes flicked up to what passed for the other's face, their eyes shifted between greens, grays, and blues, thus he couldn't decide if they were water or ice. Given that ice was just solidified water, he kicked himself for his own failure at that basic of a conclusion.

The aquatic being approached him, " _I take it you are to be my partner then?_ "

In a physical form, the hackles would have shot up on the back of Fëanáro's neck, instead, twisting arcs of red flames erupted on his back. " _You. What are you doing here!?_ " He snarled. Before either of them could formulate a verbal answer, the newcomer sprang forward and slammed their crystalline fist into his face. The blow, stronger than anticipated, sent Fëanáro airborne before he skidded to a halt laughing. " _Not even in death, my finality, my prison, can I elude you. What sick jest has the Master of the Halls concocted for me now? You and I alone in some private torment until the Void splits and the very fabric of Eä rends apart?_ "

" _You always thought everything a jab at you, especially me._ _Even now your arrogance and self-absorption astounds me, Náro. You think being forced to share this with you is a joke at your expense? Imagine how I feel about this. I would rather be dead and gone until the end of days than endure this with you._ "

" _And what is it you are to endure here, Ñolofinwë Arakáno Finwion?_ " He spat the last word.

" _I am here to leave the Halls._ "

It took an embarrassingly long time for Fëanáro to process the statement. Was it even possible to leave the Halls? Had he ever had the awareness to pay attention to the comings and goings of its inhabitants? Some he faintly recalled, children by his guess, for some reason the children stuck out more. In some corner of his brain he reasoned it was because that they had not reached adulthood, they should not have to suffer death. The other spirits he ignored, much as they ignored him. He could not even recall seeing either his mother or his father within the Halls. Another shock of rage sent embers from his fingertips and hair, the only spirit he could definitively recall seeing and it was _Ñolofinwë_ of all people.

" _Very well then_ ," he glared at the other, " _enlighten me, if that is possible for your meager intellect to comprehend, as to how one leaves the Halls_."

Ñolofinwë laughed, " _of course you wouldn't know. He wouldn't tell you. Can't I suppose. You are condemned here by the One until the End of Days._ " The sound died in his immaterial throat as he considered, " _then again... if you are here, and we succeed, perhaps they will let you out._ "

The idea of freedom, even if it was posed by the elf he regarded as the most incompetent nuisance in the whole of Eä held merit. He had a task to complete. His eyes turned back to the strange discolorations on his extremities, now truly comprehending them for the first time. " _Fascinating... I wonder what this does._ " He had intended the question not to be spoken aloud, but it seemed that they would be sharing every thought, whether they liked it or not.

An icy hand rose and a long thin watery whip snapped from it leaving a trail of diamond dust in its wake. Upon closer inspection, Fëanáro noticed that there were discolorations along the other's arm. Thin shards of reds and golds formed an intricate knot work pattern within the ice of his body. Attention back on the discolored fire that formed his left arm, the former spirit focused his concentration. " _Make me a sword._ " He sketched out the details, the balance of the blade, the heft of the cross guard, even the leather for the hilt. However nothing happened, save a few sparks centered around his palm. " _Silence Arakáno_ ," he snarled preemptively. " _Make me a sword_!" Again a few sparks flew, but once more nothing happened.

" _Pig-headed stubbornness looks good on you, big brother._ " Ñolofinwë chuckled again, he still despised his brother for leaving him to die, but the childhood resentment had faded into a giddy amusement at the idea that Fëanáro was thoroughly unaware of how a spirit functioned when in the Sport of Námo. " _I appreciate that you have until the end of days to sit there and posit out how you will conjure steel from fire, I have no doubt you could manage it, but I would like to go home before the Valar have to put yet another light source in the sky._ " With that the water spirit began to walk away.

" _Light source_ ?" That drew the fiery spirit from his efforts, and unconsciously he jogged off to catch up. " _What sort of light source?_ "

" _I suspect you'll see at some point._ "

" _What light source?!_ " At that Fëanáro placed himself between the other and the direction he was going.

" _I said you'll see it at some point._ " Undeterred, the spirit skirted around the flames, a faint hiss of steam issued from where they drew close. " _And I suggest you stop lollygagging. Really, has being dead so long addled you this much?_ "

With a snarl the fire spirit turned on his heel and fell in step with Ñolofinwë. " _Explain to me exactly what is going on._ "

" _I am leaving the Halls._ " He evaded, " _and you are apparently to help me. And I in turn, oh darkness stick me with a thousand needles, and I in turn am to help you._ " The ice spirit froze, skin now covered in small ice spikes with beads of water dribbling between them. " _Changed my mind, going back now._ " However despite this declaration, there was no exit, no way to escape the thick, solid blackness about them for the tapestry strewn Halls.

A derisive snort sent a puff of smoke from Fëanáro's nose. " _How could you possibly help me?_ "

If it was possible for Ñolofinwë to turn pale, he would have done so as a small speck of light appeared before them. The speck of light grew into a stained glass door, half covered in an image of Ñolofinwë embodied once more, the other of Fëanáro as he had appeared prior to his demise. " _We are to help one another, whether we like it or not. If we fail, we stay. If we make it, freedom._ " With a resigned sigh, one frigid hand rested on the door, " _you have to open it as well._ "

" _Why should I when there is no guarantee that my aid will free me?_ "

" _There is also no guarantee that it will leave you imprisoned._ " He rolled his glossy eyes, " _now will you help me, or will you return to your steel conjuring alone in the dark?_ "

Irritated, but curious, Fëanáro set his hand on his own half of door, and with no effort on either part, they swung open, light overtaking the darkness, a pack of white wolves among the black sheep. His eyes widened at what he found on the other side.

 


	2. A Flower Crown for the Queen

The warm afternoon light of Laurelin drifted amid the cascade of wildflowers over the hills. A few birds sang overhead while the stars danced and flickered. A young herd of deer ran past them, the pair glanced at one another. " _It's an improvement on the Halls_." Ñolofinwë gave a brief nod of approval, but his brother scarcely noticed. The flickering eyes of the fire spirit had settled across the way at a large, gnarled tree atop the next hill. He knew the hills around Tirion well enough, but he could not place the specific scene in time they were in. " _I take it this is your memory then? You are older, it makes sense._ "

" _My... memory_?" The elf frowned. " _Why_?"

" _That is the task the Master of the Halls sets before all who wish to leave. To prove you are ready you must show that you have faced the darkness of your past, reconciled with your previous life and are ready to start again._ " He explained, " _so, what is this?_ "

Fëanáro snarled, ablaze, " _I will not let you profane this! This is mine! You could never hope to understand, half blood whelp_!" 

Ah, it must be something to do with his mother then, that would be the first point that his brother had never gotten over. Really for a craftsman and elf of his caliber, his brother could be the biggest immature brat in the world. The water spirit could see someone beneath the trees, a second figure dancing around the first's dress. He turned to address the other spirit, only to find said spirit sprinting down this hill and up the next one. Rolling his eyes, he gave chase, his brother's mother should have named him 'hot blooded' rather than 'fire spirit'. Then again it was probably their father who had failed on the naming front, really did he have to affix Finwë to all of his sons' names? At least their father had done better than Mahtan, from what Nerdanel had once told him. Apparently after their second child his wife had declared they were having no more, with her professed justification being she did not wish a third daughter to be named 'manly lady'.

He caught up to Fëanáro at the top of the hill. The spirit's eyes had welled with tears, or what were the flaming equivalent thereof, and Ñolofinwë paused. He had never actually seen his brother cry, at least that he could recall. His eyes turned to the two elves before them, he guessed the lady was Míriel, from the description that his father had once given when asked, which made the tottering toddler Fëanáro. The small elf wobbled again and held up a crown woven of flowers.

"Mama! Mama! I made it for you!"

"Thank you darling." She smiled and set the crown atop her head.

The water spirit smiled, watching as the elfling rambled about how he wanted to learn to make things. He had met an elf in the market with Papa who made things. "Someday Imma make you a dress of gold thread and silver beads! You'll be even prettier than Lady Varda!"

Clearly he and Míriel were of like mind, that the child's thought was simply to precious to point out a. the blaspheme inherent in the statement, and b. just how gaudy and impractical a dress made of solid gold thread would be. She smiled, "thank you, my precious little flame." He watched her sink to her knees, "I think a nap is in order, don't wander too far." The toddler watched her with a curious expression.

Beside him, Fëanáro, the formerly alive, bounded forward. " _No! No! I refuse! You can't die! I can save you this time! Please, Mama don't do this. Please!_ " 

As he reached out for her, to cradle her, a thick, inky substance bubbled between them and flowed over the fields, as well as choking out the toddler version of himself. The ink then sprang up, strange creatures with spindly limbs and red gems where their eyes should be. The toddler Fëanáro grew, twisted among thick branches of ink into a massive entity with thousands of little limbs all clawing towards them.

"YOU KILLED MAMA! IT WAS YOUR FAULT! YOU'RE A MONSTER! YOU KILLED HER!" The toddler entombed at the heart of the creature shrieked.

" _I killed Mama. It was my fault. I am a monster. I killed her._ " Echoed the fire spirit, voice monotone and thin. 

Ñolofinwë clapped his hands over his ears as the terrifying child shrieked again. " _Náro?_ " The smaller creatures turned their attention to him when he spoke. The water spirit suspected this was what the whips were for, and the warning that the Vala had given him meant. The words gifted him by the Master of the Halls echoed in his ears, _you will have to help your partner. Comfort them, guide them. Above all put your trust in them. Only then can you both heal._

Right, comfort and guidance were easy enough with any other elf, trust less so, but all of that seemed a direct antithesis for their entire relationship. Two of the creatures lunged for Ñolofinwë, and he rolled out of the way, snapping one's neck with a whip when he recovered. " _Comfort and guidance, comfort and guidance..._ " He flicked another water whip at one of the creatures encroaching on his brother. " _Náro, listen to me, what happened to your mother, that wasn't your fault. You were only a child. It wasn't fair of her to leave you so suddenly, and it wasn't fair of Father to be so wrapped up in his own head that he forgot to take care of you. You deserve to know the love of a parent, and to know that her death is not on your hands. If you have to blame anyone, blame Father, blame the Valar, but for the love of everything, don't blame yourself!_ " 

The toddler wailed again, "LIAR! LIAR! YOU DON'T KNOW!"

The adult Fëanáro lifted his gaze from the image of his mother clutched in his arms. " _How do you know it wasn't my fault? Father and the Valar both said she had put too much of herself in me._ " 

" _Náro, you remember the time Cano cracked a window when he threw a pot because he was having trouble keeping a beat on it? And how you were furious, but you never blamed him? Because he was a child and children cannot be held to the same standards as adults because they are still learning?_ " Ñolofinwë faltered as three of the creatures swarmed him, trying to drown the water spirit in a twist of irony. " _You did not ask to be born, you did not ask to take all of your mother's spirit. You are wholly innocent in this._ " The ink creatures grew, more piling on, and he could feel himself slipping into the blackness, memories fading. 

Until fire seared an opening at the top and a hand reached in, hauling him up by the neck, steam hissing at the contact. Fëanáro set his sights on the form of his toddler self at the heart of the monstrosity. " _I am not responsible for my mother's death. I am not responsible for my mother's death, and I never was._ " He sprang into action once more, setting the creature ablaze with several swift attacks. The inky creatures faded when the center controlling them crumpled into ashes. Chest heaving, despite lacking both need and means to breathe, the fire spirit cast his gaze upwards at the returning sky, " _I am not responsible for my mother's death and I never was._ " A bitter smile split his lips before he turned his gaze to Ñolofinwë. " _Don't gloat, it's very unattractive._ " 

" _I wasn't going to say anything,_ " the water spirit lifted his hands and nodded towards the next door, in the valley to their left, the direction of Tirion. " _But now we know what we're up against_?" 

" _Correction, you know what we're up against, and if I have to witness you having some sort of fit, and those, whatever they are try to kill me, I will split your skull myself._ "

" _Had you been at the meeting with the Master prior to the start of our adventure, you would know what those creatures are._ " Cowing slightly at the expression on his brother's face, he continued to elaborate, " _they are our emotions given form. Grief, pain, regret, anger, and so on. I told you earlier that we're supposed to help each other, not just in the combative sense, but in the emotionally supportive one as well._ "

" _If it gets me out of these Halls, then I shall suffer it, Ñolo._ " He hissed out the shortened form, if he was going to be going by 'Náro' then he thought it only fair to retaliate. 

Ñolofinwë nodded and they began their trek towards the new door, " _I didn't know you blamed yourself for her death. It really was not your fault._ " 

Despite himself, Fëanáro did appreciate the words, it felt nice to hear someone say it wasn't his fault. It was nice to the point where he had just started to believe it himself. " _I suppose this is the part where I'm to thank you for screaming like a frightened child and almost drowning?_ " 

Amazed at the almost gratitude, he shook his head, " _don't thank me just yet, if we make it to the end and we're still on speaking terms, then you can thank me._ " 

" _I'd sooner eat worms._ _And I will kill you if you bring up that time by the river._ " 

He smiled and placed a hand on the door, " _my lips are sealed. Though for point of reference you can't kill me, seeing as how we are already dead._ " 

Fëanáro growled some series of curses and helped him push through the next door.

 


	3. A Wedding and Two Funerals

Ñolofinwë frowned as they entered into a massive vaulted hallway. " _I take it this is another of yours. You are older after all._ " 

Snorting, Fëanáro studied the halls, " _I never thought I would revisit_ this _again_." He spat, a wad of embers sizzled on the marble floor.

With a bewildered nod, the water spirit took the opportunity to study the area. It looked as if a royal wedding was being conducted. Banners made the high windows rain color down on the already colorful crowd. Elegant, bright robes covered the faceless masses, and even the Valar stood watch at the central pedestal where stood Manwë with Ëonwë beside him. Before them stood Indis and Finwë, both dressed in even more opulent garments than the crowd. He briefly wondered how his mother could even move in that outfit, given that the train of her dress cascaded down the platform and back three rows of seats. But then his father also had the same problem, though his own robe only trailed to the edge of the first row. He paused, as the heat beside him had faded, meaning that once again Fëanáro had wandered off. It was like trying to keep track of a puppy on fire, look away for two seconds and they've run off after something they shouldn't.

For his part, said brother had settled off in one corner again with the small version of himself, at most a few years older than the previous memory. " _Náro, talk to me._ "

" _You've working eyes the last I checked._ " He growled, " _your mind may be addled but I am certain the events around us have not escaped even your meager intellect._ "

His eyes rolled, " _I mean what is going through that self-important head of yours. This is_ your _memory. I am well aware that this is when Father and my mother married. But what I am trying to understand is which part of your 'hatred of everything' complex this is. Is it my mother? Father? The Valar? The faceless person five rows back?_ "

Fëanáro paused, considering the situation, already humiliated by having the other elf witness his tantrum about his mother's death. " _I believe this has to do with my father..._ " He sighed, " _I recall feeling betrayed, upset, and angry. I'd only met Indis twice during their courtship._ " At the altar the couple had begun to listen to Manwë and Varda recite the blessings in their names, while the young Fëanáro in the memory slipped out of the room, unnoticed.

It was then the pair became aware of the other people in the room, faceless, but with clear voices, whispering.

"Oh look at how perfect they are together."

"Does His Majesty know what he's doing?"

"Who was that Míriel person anyway?"

"The King must be overjoyed to have found love once more."

For his part, the fire spirit's fists clenched as a snarl split his face. Ñolofinwë lifted a hesitant hand, " _Náro, what is it_?" His brother's eyes flashed as he approached the standing figure of Finwë. " _Náro! Not again..._ " Ñolofinwë on the one hand knew he was hardly one to talk, or would be once they started to delve into his memories, but on the other hand, he knew his brother acted on impulse. Really for someone regarded as brilliant, he didn't put much thought into his own life. 

Fëanáro seized the memory figure of Finwë and growled at him. " _You! Do you know how difficult this was for me?!_ " He snapped, " _of course you didn't! You... you were so wrapped up in whatever it was in your head you never bothered to ask?! You didn't even care!_ "

The whispers around them returned, tones harsher.

"So ungrateful, really a son should show more respect to his father."

"These outbursts, it's a disgrace."

"I pity the child, but really..."

"Finwë deserves better than an ungrateful whelp."

The water spirit's eyes widened, even as the twitching shadows coiled out from the crowd and Finwë's cloak. " _Náro, calm down! Let's talk this through._ "

He growled, " _you sound just like_ him.  _I am through trying to explain myself to someone who won't listen_!" 

Rolling his eyes, Ñolofinwë did what he probably should have done millennia ago. He strode up to his brother and socked him in the face. Again. " _Calm down, you being an insufferable volcano of complexes and exploding every five minutes is what got everyone, us included, into this delightful state of being dead._ " He sighed, " _explain what is going through that self-important head of yours. I will help you, but if you don't say anything how am I supposed to know what to do?_ "

The fire spirit steadied himself, even as steam hissed from the point where the other elf had hit him. " _If we were alive, that might have broken my nose._ " He smirked, " _I doubt you would enjoy what I have to say._ "

" _I'll be the judge of that._ "

An incorporeal, airless sigh later, Fëanáro began, " _Earlier, when we were discussing my mother and her death, and you told me I shouldn't blame myself, not everyone felt that way. And as you said... Father abandoned me emotionally then. But every time I wanted to lash out it was always the same reprimand of how could I do this to my father? Had I no love for him? Did I not comprehend how much he was suffering? I tried not to care, however..._ "

As he trailed off, understanding dawned in his brother's face, " _so that's why you took it out on her._ "

" _It was childish, but I had nowhere else to vent._ " He shook his head, " _that and at least early on she kept trying to do everything that I had done with Mother, flower crowns, long walks in the fields. And I wanted none of it._ " He paused with a bitter smile on his smoldering lips, " _it's strange, it seems so puerile now, then again it was also a long time ago._ _Perhaps... I could learn to tolerate her, at least a little, someday._ "

Ñolofinwë blinked, his sarcastic retort halted by the distant, sincere look in the other elf's eyes. He smiled, and glanced around looking for the door out. But their exit had yet to materialize. Fëanáro had admitted and moved on from his hatred of Indis, so what was missing? Oh, the actual source of his anger, the water spirit kicked himself. " _Alright, it sounds like you've dealt with the aftermath of this particular aggression, but we still need to get to the root of it._ " He placed himself before the figure of Finwë, floating aimlessly in the background, then turned to face his brother. " _Now, I want you to take all those centuries of pent up rage and anxiety. And I want you to say what you've always meant to say in a manner suitable for an adult._ "

It irritated him that his little brother thought he could dictate this to him, however if he wanted to move on with his afterlife, he had little choice. " _Father, a moment, and do not speak until I have finished._ " He closed his eyes and held up his hand. " _I realize that when Mother died, you had every right to mourn, it was normal, natural. However that gave you no right to forget you had other duties, such as those of parent. Instead you swaddled yourself in your grief and thought the easiest way to rebound from it was to find a new wife. You left me alone to soak in guilt and isolation, which is something no parent should do to their child._ _I do not expect an apology, as it is both a long time gone, and also not currently possible, but merely saying this has helped me to feel better._ " His shoulders rolled back as his eyes opened, the door out replaced the figure of Finwë. " _That wasn't so difficult._ "

The water spirit smiled, " _I am glad for you._ "

" _Don't get cocky,_ " his brother retorted, hand on his half of the door. " _We have yet to encounter one of your memories._ "

" _I have a feeling one of mine shall be next._ " Ñolofinwë put his hand on also and they pushed it together into the next room.

 


	4. Brotherly Affection?

The next door led them back out into the wilds, the distant jeweled spires of Tirion barely visible through the trees. " _This looks strangely familiar._ " Ñolofinwë frowned as the mingled light of the Trees glittered in the leaves.

" _I thought that was the point of the exercise,_ " Fëanáro grumbled as he picked his way through the trees.

The slopes in the grove all lead into a stream, where the ghosts of creatures flitted in and out. A heard of deer, a family of prairie jackals, even some of the favored raptors of Oromë, their bright feathers and teeth speckled with blood. At the water's edge they found two young elves, and the spirits stopped. " _Wait..._ " Fëanáro scowled, the embers of his lips curled in disgust. " _Is that-_ "

" _We were so cute as children!_ " His brother cooed, " _I forgot your ears used to look too big for your head._ "

The spirit flared up in indignation, " _remind me of that again and I will make you regret your birth_."

" _It's alright Náro, you grew into them._ " He grinned.

The child versions of themselves turned to one another, with the young Fëanáro looking disgusted, "I hate you Arakáno."

"Hehe," the younger child chuckled. "I can't believe you did that. You're so dumb, Cu-ru-fin-wë." The last part came out in a sing song.

Fëanáro lunged for him, "shut up! Half blood whelp!" They toppled into the water, grappling and screaming at each other all the while.

The two spirits watched, Ñolofinwë let out a wistful, breathless sigh, " _the first time we ever tried to seriously hurt one another._ "

" _You made me eat a worm._ " The fire spirit growled, unimpressed. " _I don't see why we are here. We already know what the issues that lie between us are._ "

" _Do we?_ " The other spirit crouched near the bank. His passive expression faded to sorrow as he continued, " _we already established your issue lay not with Indis but your own guilt and rage over your mother's death. So why not sit down and tell me why you hate me?_ "

Fëanáro rolled his eyes, " _you know damn well why I hate you. You are a half-blood incompetent whelp and your existence disgusts me._ "

" _Náro, that's not true, and you know it._ "

The other elf's head bowed and he growled, " _then, Ñolo_ ," he spat, " _tell me why you despise me_?" 

Ñolofinwë sighed and leaned back onto the illusory grass. A faint bright blue colored his cheeks as he began to speak. " _You only assume I hate you. Do you know what my greatest desire has always been?_ "

" _Me to die in a fire?_ " The fire spirit laughed bitterly.

He sighed, stood up, and glared at his brother, " _no, which I suppose is another of your delusions. After all it's easy to hate someone who hates you in turn. You and your love of innovation. For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. You hate me, therefore I must hate you, and so here we are, victims of mathematics._ "

That took Fëanáro aback, even as he roared, " _then what do you feel?!_ "

" _I only ever wanted your respect and love!_ " With that the water spirit tackled him, steam burst from the contact points. The pair tumbled down into the water where their previous selves continued to fight. Shadows twisted and writhed from the child versions of the brothers rearing and shrieking as they fought. The shadows reached out for the spirits and wrapped around them, they dragged them apart. Both now struggling against the tendrils trying to overwhelm them made Fëanáro hastily revise his options.

" _If I hypothetically were to believe you,_ " the fire spirit bit at one of the thin strands of black before his face, "what would you ask of me?!"

" _Let me run down the list_ ," Ñolofinwë rolled his eyes as one of his water whips snapped through another of the shadow creatures.

A burst of fire freed the older elf and he seized his brother's hand, " _no time, give me the summary_." He hauled the water spirit from the cesspool of darkness.

" _First, stop yelling at me every five minutes, second stop treating me like I can't do anything correctly. And third, tell me that you don't hate me!_ " He replied, water whips cracking the air with every clause.

Fëanáro let out a snort of fire, which seared another, " _I am not yelling at you! I am speaking loudly for the sake of being heard over this!_ " He waved at the screeching shadows. " _Second, you are doing an adequate job of beating these shadowy visions of emotions, I am impressed by your efficiency at hitting things_."

It was a start, the other elf decided, after all, it could be worse. They could actually have fallen to the darkness and he would have to explain to Lord Námo that they had failed. His water whips sliced through the last few shadows. Fëanáro blasted one last puff of fire at them before he slumped to the ground. " _That was far more difficult than I believe it really needed to be._ "

Ñolofinwë smiled, " _you've always been my inspiration, Náro_."

That drew a faint yellow tint to the flames of his cheeks. He shook it off as he stood up, " _of course I am, I inspire many people_."

He shook his head, " _you don't know how right you are..._ " his eyes fell on the door as he approached it. His brother had already placed one scorching hand on it. " _One more thing, brother._ "

" _What is it?_ " Fëanáro's eyebrow rose.

" _You haven't fulfilled my last request_." 

The fire spirit turned to face him even as his shoulders rolled with a breathless sigh. His eyes averted, " _I do not hate you. There are entities in this universe that I despise, and, after all of this, I have come to the conclusion that I- I tolerate you._ "

Ñolofinwë blinked, " _I won't let it go to my head. Shall we get going?_ "

~~~

Námo lounged with some of the spirits of children, watching them run and play. He smiled as two of them played chase. Some of the older spirits lounged nearby, watching with mild interest, while others joined in the fun. The Vala knew the names and histories of everyone in his realm, from the babies to the first elves. His eyes fell to a large dragon spirit curled among the tall trees, dozing idly before turning once more to the children. A few of his Maiar flitted about, silently administering miruvor to the spirits who desired it, several pausing in their game to drink. One of the Maiar drifted towards him, following a young prairie jackal spirit, who whined and chased his tail in panic.

It took no effort on the Vala's part to understand the Maia or spirit. But the message brought him to pause, and he stood, the bright, colorful robes rippling as he did so. He petted the boy on the head before he strode from the field. He hadn't anticipated Fëanáro to enter into his game, especially for the fact he was forbidden to leave. Námo had a responsibility to his charges safety, even to the Spirit of Fire.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this fic is going on a brief hiatus during November while I do NaNoWriMo. I'm planning on posting another chapter sometime halfway through the month. See you all in December!


	5. Love's Labors Lost

It occurred to Fëanáro as they opened the next door that they had never had one that branched into two halls on the other side. One path was rimmed with fire, and the other with ice. " _What do you suppose this entails_?" Ñolofinwë tilted his head as he approached the icy opening.

" _Uncertain, perhaps it is a hangup we share but have to resolve as individuals_?" He mused, strumming his fingers through the fire.

His brother considered this, " _but we already know we have issue with one another_."

" _Obviously, and we've begun to work on it_ ," the fire spirit grumbled, " _this must be related but separate. We have our own minor issues but they are similar enough to be categorized as the same._ "

" _We don't have much overlap in interests or shared life experience_."

" _I know. Ñolo-_ " the water spirit had wandered over, before descending down the flaming path. " _Idiot._ " He followed the elf down the pathway and it opened onto his chambers, with a very peculiar noise inside. " _No, Ñolofinwë Arakáno Finwion, step away from that door this instant!_ "

" _Oh come on Náro_ ," he giggled, " _I just want to take a peak_."

Fëanáro put a hand on his shoulder. " _This was the last night we had sex. It was the last time I ever talked to my wife-_ " he froze, " _Nerdanel... this was the last time I saw Nerdanel..._ " He sank to his knees. " _Nerdanel_."

The shadows rippled under the door, and Ñolofinwë sank down beside him, hands on his brother's shoulders, ignoring the hiss of steam. " _Náro talk to me_."

He leaned up against the wall and sighed, " _It was a couple of days before I had the formal unveiling of the Silmarils. It was an- it was unkind, the things we said, that I said. Have you ever had such an intense argument that the only way it resolves itself is a complete carnal disaster?_ "

Ñolofinwë nodded, " _no, but I am willing to listen. Also remind me your biography will be titled 'Complete Carnal Disaster'._ "

The fire spirit rolled his eyes, " _and yours shall be titled 'The Insufferable Brat Who Could Never Stop Talking'_."

" _Always first class at naming things, besides, it was Aro who could never stop talking. Remember?_ " His brother grinned.

" _I am better at naming people than you_."

" _You literally named your fifth son after you_."

" _And your fourth was treated any better in that respect?_ "

He relented at that, " _fair, though I suppose both of us can blame Father for it. Did you once say he tried to name you Finwë until your mother yelled at him for it?_ "

He snorted, " _I suppose that's true_."

At that moment the door slammed open, had the pair been corporeal it would have sent both of them flying into the far wall. Instead they watched as Nerdanel stormed out from the room, leveling pieces of art and light fixtures in her wake. Ñolofinwë stood, " _we should probably solve this. What happened?_ "

Fëanáro glanced into the room where his memory self had also started to demolish objects. " _As I said, we fought. During the crafting process I had been absent, as a father, as a husband. I even locked out Curufinwë. By the end I even missed the birth of my grandson_." He coiled into a ball, his flames low and cool. " _I missed my grandson... But that wasn't what we were talking about... was it?_ "

The shadows that leaked from the room flickered, " _no, no it wasn't_."

He heaved a sigh, " _Nerdanel came in and accused me of my negligence. She was right, of course. It had been years since we had seen each other by this point, years._ " His eyes flicked up to his brother's face, " _I hurt the person in the world who means more than anything to me. And I couldn't see it._ "

" _Alright_ ," Ñolofinwë nodded, recognizing rather clearly where his pathway would lead. " _That's a good start, Náro. Now, if I were Nerdanel what would you say to me?_ "

" _First I would say, Nerdanel why in E_ _ä_ _did you dye your hair and why has your voice dropped?_ "

It took his brother an embarrassingly long moment to realize that the fire spirit had told a joke. He fell back laughing, " _well you know, you descendants of Finwë have so many admirers I thought I would try it for myself_."

With a roll of his eyes, Fëanáro continued, " _and then I would say, Nerdanel, my shining jewel, my golden light, inspiration of my very being... What I did to you, I hurt you, and I would not blame you if you never forgave me. I caused you grief and sorrows uncounted. You deserve a better husband and friend than I. If ever we meet again and you give me a path to make amends, gladly shall I take it._ "

The water spirit smiled. " _Who knew you had the soul of a poet?_ "

" _The arts of word and hand are not mutually exclusive._ " The elf complained and stood. " _Unlike you, I am gifted in both."_

Ñolofinwë took the jab with a smile, " _well not everyone can be the wrestling champion of Tirion two hundred years running_." He pulled his brother into an affectionate headlock as waves of steam shot forth while he ruffled the crackling hair.

" _You're avoiding your own problem._ "

He sighed, " _I suppose I am._ "

A door opened, delicate, intricate ice crystals formed the structure. Fëanáro broke from his brother's grip and led the way down the hall, the ice warped and twisted at the fire. The other spirit trailed after him and paused as they reached the end of the hallway. The scene opened onto a hill just outside of the palace at Tirion, an argument filled the air, stars still flecked with streaks of Ungoliant's darkness.

"I have to go, my brother needs my help!" Ñolofinwë shouted, dressed in armor, helmet under one arm.

Anairë stood, the flat of her blade against her husband's chest. "You're risking the lives of our family for what? Some petty vengeance? Fëanáro hates you! Or did you forget that?"

"My father is dead, and right now he's the only one going after that monster!" He shoved past her with a growl.

She stared at the blade, "you stubborn pig-faced arse! You're sentencing yourself to death and damnation with them. At least leave our children out of this!"

"Our children are old enough to make their own decisions." He retorted before he stormed off, "I'm going."

Fëanáro glanced down to the Ñolofinwë present beside him. The water spirit sank to his knees. " _No... Anairë... you were right about this... about everything... but I- you-_ " he shook.

Shadows rippled from Anairë's feet, and the fire spirit snarled. " _Ñolo, now is not the time to be having a breakdown_."

" _She was right... Arakáno... Írissë... Findekáno... Turukáno... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry._ " He hunched in on himself, ice spikes jutted from where his hair should be.

The shadows materialized around them, "failure... failure... always a failure."

The fire spirit scowled, and slammed his fists together. " _Sword, make me a sword. A sword would be beautiful right now._ " Two of the shadows lunged for him, he fell to the ground, punching at one of them. " _A sword, make me a sword._ " He kicked the other shadow off, to see that several had mobbed his brother. " _MAKE ME A SWORD!_ " Fëanáro roared, a jet of flame shot from his mouth and vaporized the shadows on the water spirit. " _That works too._ "

His attention twisted to the multiplying twisted creatures, and the figure that had been Anairë, now a twisted coiling serpent. He squinted, her scales were made of the corpses of his niblings. "YOU FAILED THEM, YOU FAILED THEM ALL!"

" _I didn't mean to... I didn't mean for it to end this way..._ " Ñolofinwë managed.

Fëanáro glanced at his hands and concentrated, his rage poured out in a blast of fire, which launched him into the air. " _Ñolofinwë Arakáno Finwion, crying on the ground like a useless sack of beets will solve nothing, especially not our current conundrum. You once declared you would stand beside me and fight. I ask you as your brother, make good on that promise!_ "

" _But how?_ "

" _You are a brave man, and a better fighter than our little sister, and almost as good as I am. Now for the love of everything, FIGHT!_ " With that he rushed at the serpent, shooting another blast of fire from his mouth. However he had not quite mastered flight yet as the creature avoided his attack and its jaws closed on him.

Fëanáro snarled as he struggled, his whole body wrapped in flames. The darkness surrounding him jerked, and he flew out of the mouth, now covered in thick grey slime. He glanced up to find one of Ñolofinwë's whips around the creature's throat. " _Are you alright Náro?_ "

" _Fine, I suffered through seven infants, there's no fluid in E_ _ä_ _that bothers me._ " He stood up and one last blast of fire vaporized the creature. " _I suppose I should enquire after your well being, Ñolo._ "

" _Better_ ," he swallowed, " _thanks to you. I should have listened to Anairë, and I regret that. When I get out of here I will apologize to her._ "

His brother jabbed him in the shoulder, " _good luck, I'll be here when you get back._ "

" _It's not that bad. I hope_ ," he waved to the door. " _Shall we then?_ "

" _Yes._ "

 


	6. As Dark Night Embraces

The next door however opened onto a blackened sky, the stars devoured by this living dark. Intellectually Fëanáro knew that the chill that set into his bones was the memory of a chill as he could no longer a. Feel the cold, and b. Claim to have bones. “ _Is this where I think we are?_ ” Ñolofinwë stepped around the broken and blood spattered rubble.

“ _Formenos…_ ” Fëanáro held up his hand and concentrated. While his body gave off a faint, permanent light source, they would require something more substantial. The light spilled over the empty streets, but never seemed to touch the ink-stained ground. Námo had done excellent work recreating the way Ungoliant’s filth operated. “I suppose Father’s death was traumatic for both of us.”

" _That’s an understatement._ ” The water spirit muttered.

“ _You always were a crybaby bunting._ ”

“ _Believe it or not I was talking about you._ ”

That made Fëanáro freeze in his tracks. The ball of fire grew in his hand to a crackling, head sized object. “ _What did you say?_ ”

“ _Did you forget everything you did afterwards? The slaughter of innocent people in the streets, the doom you set upon not only your children but upon us all, or the fact you died?_ ” His brother scowled as they reached the front gate of the palace.

The fire spirit snarled, “ _what?!_ ” His free hand clenched while the living night around them rippled violently. “ _What do you mean?! What happened to my boys?_ ”

Ñolofinwë scowled, “ _You killed Ambarto for a start. Not to mention what Maitimo went through_.”

He bristled, and the water spirit thought his brother resembled an irate hedgehog rather than an elf in this state. “ _I- you-_ ” Fëanáro sputtered before his fury quelled, guilt and fear replaced it. He had killed his youngest son. And whatever had happened to his eldest must have been rooted with him otherwise Ñolofinwë would not accuse him of it. His hands raked through his hair as he sighed. “ _I suppose I shall find out soon enough. Come, let us relive this horror that we may overcome it, the sooner the better_.”

They made their way up to the front steps of the courtyard to find a trail of blood. Gathered around the body they found their families. The sound of sobbing filled the air. The two spirits drifted between the memories of their kin. Gaunt Maitimo, the first to discover Finwë’s corpse. Findekáno cupping Arakáno to him. Nerdanel’s absence struck Fëanáro, he had forgotten she had not come with him, for obvious reasons in hindsight. Even as he cursed himself, the fire spirit observed his little brother kneel down next to the bloodied and battered corpse. “ _Hello, Father._ ”

He raised an eyebrow, “ _you are talking to the memory constructed version of our father’s departed form?_ ”

Ñolofinwë refrained from commenting on the use of ‘our’ rather than ‘my’. “ _I was going to sit down and have a long heart to heart about what his death meant to me. Would you care to join in?_ ”

Even as the elf growled, he folded himself in beside the water spirit. “ _Fine, but make it quick._ ”

He nodded, “ _thank you, Náro_.” He straightened up, and began, “ _hello, Father. I realize you cannot hear me right now, your spirit resides now within the Halls of Mandos. However, there are some things I believe you should know. First, Náro and I came to a nominal reconciliation at the festival. I say nominal because the asinine half-wit next to me came up with a way to leave, but he wanted no revenge for you. He abandoned us on the shore to retrieve his trinkets rather than to follow the honorable path. We did terrible things, and we suffered so much pain for it. In the end, I don’t know if we made much of a difference… The darkness has only grown since you died, and I can only hope to return to a world that has been liberated from it. What we did has shaken Arda to the core. I left my sons too great a task and I can only hope they succeeded…_ ”

When his brother had finished, Fëanáro voiced his attempted consolation. “ _Did you really need to call me an asinine half-wit?_ ”

“ _Considering at the time you were being a colossal one? Yes._ ”

He grinned slightly, “ _I shall teach you better insults later. But… What happened after I died? What did you do?_ ”

Ñolofinwë’s eyes fell to the ground, “ _you’ll see after this, I expect. And then you will understand. Everything I did, I did it so that you might find a modicum of respect for me. Because you were right, you just went about it in the wrong way._ "

The fire spirit mused on that for a moment, “ _considering my actions… I suppose there may be some glimmer of truth in that. I should probably say my piece to Father’s demise before we press on._ ”

“ _It might be a good idea yes._ ” He smiled, “ _take your time, it’s not as if it has any meaning here._ ”

With that, Fëanáro’s back straightened as he pressed a hand to his father’s bloodied forehead. “ _Father, I realize things have never been the same since Mama died. We ended up in a complicated relationship because of it. However I would not wish this fate upon you. I blamed Moringotto for it yes, but I was so blinded by anger and hatred that I blamed everyone else, except for myself. As loathe as I am to admit it, Ñolofinwë is right. When I set forth it was not because you had died but because a part of me had been stolen. I did terrible things and what is more I did them for the wrong reasons_.” The realization set in that he had done terrible things. “ _Nothing can absolve me of what I did in my madness after your death. But I acknowledge that some of the actions I took nay have had detrimental consequences_.”

It was a start, Ñolofinwë clapped him on the shoulder, “ _how do you feel now?_ ”

“ _Dismal. Is this how being wrong is supposed to feel?_ ” The fire spirit muttered over the hiss of steam.

His brother shrugged, “ _only if you don’t approach your mistakes with an open mind and willingness to change._ ”

It was not a feeling Fëanáro was accustomed to, acknowledging the possibility that he might have, at some point, made a mistake. “ _So if I have hypothetically make a mistake, what do I do then_?”

“ _You work to make amends to the wronged party._ ” The water spirit explained. “ _You show compassion and understanding. I realize that is difficult to conceive but you have a family, and I am certain you have had disagreements with them and had to rectify the situation_.” That got the smith scratching his chin and drawing with the flickering embers of his fingertip in the air. As he muttered to himself his brother raised an eyebrow in concern. “ _Um, Náro, what are you doing?_ ”

“ _Drafting up apology jewelry. How many people do you think merit an apology in this fictional scenario?_ ”

“ _Your wife, your sons, your siblings- half-siblings_ ,” he amended at Fëanáro’s scathing glare. “ _Their families, the entire population of Alqualondë… the entirety of the Noldor… Probably some folk in Endórë too._ ”

He scowled at that, “ _how can I have upset that many people?_ ”

“ _I don’t know if you are aware brother_ ,” Ñolofinwë began as he stood. “ _But you have a veritable talent for making people downright irate with you. It’s as if you’re the elven version of a meat grinder, complicated, difficult, and prone to getting people to scream obscenities_.”

“ _I can’t tell if that was a joke or no_ t.”

“ _Take it as you will but the point stands, you hurt a lot of people with what you did and there will be consequences for your actions. Ones even I have not borne witness to._ ”

The fire spirit stood as the next door appeared, dusting his legs more out of habit than any need of it. “ _I suppose the next logical question is, what do you do when you have wronged someone?_ ”

Ñolofinwë mused on the idea, “ _I apologize and offer to make amends by whatever means I have. Including respecting other people when they say that they will never forgive me and never wish to see me again._ ” He placed a hand on the door while his older brother stewed on his answer.

Fëanáro remained silent as he pushed the door open. The idea had some merit after he considered it. “ _And if my family, if they never…_ ”

The water spirit waved a hand before he placed it on the door. “ _Then respect that._ ” He sighed, “ _as I said, you hurt a lot of people who cared about you. To that end you must either make amends or respect that the ties that bind you are forever severed_.”

“ _But Nerdanel… My boys…_ ” He raked his hands through his flickering hair before he steeled himself. “ _Now is not the time for this. If I have driven away my family then I shall live with the consequences. But if there is even a sliver of a chance to earn them back then I shall seize it by the throat._ ”

“ _Phrasing, Náro_ ,” he chided the fire spirit before he fell silent. Ñolofinwë’s eyes fixed through door.

Fëanáro scowled, tracing the other elf’s line of sight. He could see the night on the other side, but something gusted in, and his eyes turned to the ground. “ _Ñolofinwë? What is it?_ ”


	7. Dead Winter Reigns

“ _Ñolofinwë? What is it?_ ” Fëanáro reached out for his brother’s shoulder, shaking him with all the gentleness of a stampeding herd of antelope. However the water spirit remained motionless.

Snow and shadows drifted through the door as the wind howled, blasting both of them with frigid air. Two frozen black hands shoved the door frame apart as a figure made of swirled red, black, and white ice shoved its way into the previous chamber. Fëanáro squinted, it seemed the shards of ice were frozen people, bodies twisted together to form the larger body. “ _Ñolo, what in Eä is going on?!_ ” He shouted as fissures opened in the ground.

The large shadow figure spoke. “A LEADER IS THE SUM OF THEIR PEOPLE. WHAT DOES THAT MAKE YOU? AN ANGRY RESENTFUL BOY PLAYING AT BEING A KING? HOW MANY OF US DIED BECAUSE OF YOU TWO?!” The entity passed through the door and rose to full height. “YOU ARE UNWORTHY OF TRUST! UNWORTHY OF RESPECT! YOU ARE UNWORTHY!”

The fire spirit shoved his brother to one side as they avoided one gargantuan fist. A thick trail of steam billowed behind them as he hefted his brother over his shoulders and ran. It was not cowardice, more a tactical retreat as he kicked the door closed behind them. They slipped on the snow, odd given that put of all of the illusions they had encountered thus far, this one felt the most real.

Ñolofinwë lay a short distance off, curled in on himself, “ _cold, so cold, always cold…_ ”

His brother rose to his feet, puddles melted and refroze with each step before he knelt. “ _Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m doing this because I don’t want to go back to the Halls in failure._ ” With that, Fëanáro conjured a handful of fire and held it close. “ _What is this place?_ ”

The water spirit coiled around it, enjoying the feeling, “ _welcome to the Helcaraxë… A land of eternal darkness and cold where no one should go._ ”

The burning eyes flicked about the barren landscape, “ _Ñolo, what were you doing here?_ ”

“ _Following you. You were right, at least I thought you were. We deserved freedom for ourselves and our people. But when you left us…_ ” He shivered eyes closed. “ _It was my choice. Anairë left me, as did Aro… Even though his children came too. I swore to watch over them. Some good that did me…_ ”

Fëanáro scowled at that, “ _you should have stayed. I didn’t need your help for this._ ”

The water spirit shuddered again as the memories of bone biting cold seeped further into him. “ _I thought if I followed you I could make you see reason. Make you see that the whole world hadn’t turned against you. But when I arrived…_ ”

“ _I was already dead…_ ” He finished his brother’s thought. The thin blue shadows on the snow drifts rippled again. “ _You took everyone across this wasteland, for me?_ ”

“ _No I did it because I was bored. Of course I did it for you, you lummox. That way when I saw you again I could beat some sense into you and together maybe we could find a solution to this._ ” Ñolofinwë sat up, still rubbing his arms to warm them. “ _Before I say anything else, Náro, there’s something you should see._ ”

Out of the night stepped two figures, distinct from the faceless masses of elves. One clung to the other, gaunt and thin. The immaterial, fictional bottom dropped out of his stomach as he recognized the two. “Come on Tyelpe, just a little ways to go, and then we can take a rest.” Lindëwen’s lilting voice rose over the howl of wind. His daughter by marriage bore his grandson to sit on a drift now covered in a oiled leather blanket.

Fëanáro sprang over to kneel before his grandson. “ _Neuro… Neuro what happened to you?_ ”

“ _Snow fatigue, it afflicted the young and the ill-equipped the most._ ” His brother explained, eyes on the ground. “ _He lived through the experience, but… I don’t think he will ever forgive you or your son for leaving him to suffer._ ”

The fire spirit’s shoulders slumped, it wasn’t Ñolofinwë who should apologize for what had happened to his family. If he hadn’t been so wrapped up in his projects and paranoia, had just spent more time with his family, maybe he could have spared his grandson this suffering. His head bowed, “ _no, Ñolo, this is on me. I brought this on Neuro… on Lindё… even on you. No one should spend their years wasting away on this frozen wasteland, especially not the young…_ ”

As soon as he finished speaking, the ground rumbled, as up from the ice rose the giant shadow creature that they thought banished behind the doors of the previous memory. “FAILURES!!!! YOU SHOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN KINGS! YOU ARE UNWORTHY TO LEAD! YOU HAVE BROUGHT DEATH TO THE NOLDOR! YOU HAVE DOOMED ALL THAT YOU AND YOUR FAMILY HAVE STOOD FOR! YOU FORSOOK THE VALAR! YOU BOTH ARE MONSTERS!”

Neither elf could come up with a retort to that. The two stared at one another and the bottom dropped out of Fёanáro’s stomach as the pair sank down into the pooled black at their feet. “ _Ñolo, whatever has happened, should we go back to the halls, know that when we leave, I swear that I shall give you credit for your determination to help to set things right. I should have seen your sincerity for what it was, otherwise we may yet have avoided this._ ”

His brother swallowed while he nodded, “ _I appreciate it. I just want you to know, I tried to look after them and your sons when you died. They always spoke highly of you when you were still acting the role of father. And I respect that at least when they were younger, you did your best for your kids_.”

Both had sunk into the shadows to their chests now. The fire spirit’s hands slipped through the darkness, watching it ripple around them. He shook his head, a sudden rage coursed in his metaphorical veins. No. He was sick and tired of moping about the Halls with only a prairie jackal for infrequent company. He would not go back like this, surrounded by darkness, with Ñolofinwё in grief and fear. Not when he had, perhaps, in some vague facsimile of the word, come to appreciate his brother for succeeding where he had failed. Heat flared inside and across his arms, as flames lapped at the darkness. “ _Oi, Ñolo_.”

“ _What is it?_ ” The water spirit’s head rose, morbid resignation evident in his crystalline eyes. “ _One last jab before we return to the endless labyrinth of the Halls?_ ”

“ _No, what are we doing? Lying down to accept this fate? We are the sons of Finwё, the first elf to stand against the darkness. Victory is in our blood, we cannot stay here. Will you join me against this worthless illusion, and again outside these Halls, to finish what we started?_ ” Fёanáro offered his hand out to the other. “ _Dare I say it, you are not a terrible person and I feel some small iota of fondness for you. At the very least I refuse to lose this infernal sport here and now without seeing this to the end. I ask you, stand with me._ ”

Ñolofinwë straightened, eyes wide, he reached out and took the fire spirit’s hand. “ _Náro, could it be you are becoming a decent person? Or am I- No, I will not sully this moment. Shall we show them why we are the leaders of our people?_ ”

The elf smiled, and hefted his brother, “ _you have one shot, don’t miss_.” He spun once, twice, and flung the water spirit through the air.

The two water whips extended and caught the titanic horror around the throat. As he landed, he dragged the creature down before Fëanáro flung himself into the air after. A fireball as big as the shadow formed above his head, and he flung it down to the pinned monster. The shadows rippled and died as the brothers embraced in delight at the destruction. The next door appeared as the two smiled at one another, then realized they still held one another in a familial hug. They hastily separated, neither looking at the other. The water spirit scratched his head, “ _nice shot._ ”

“ _Nice opening, shall we go before this gets awkward?_ ”

“ _Yes_ ,” Ñolofinwë nodded as the brothers pushed open the next door, both bracing against the blast of fire that erupted from the other side.

 

~~~~~

The prairie jackal pup slumped to his haunches as Námo peered down into one of the fountains that littered the Halls. These pools allowed his Maiar to monitor the Sport and participants. The two watched as the brothers conquered the titan shadow. The Vala glanced down to the boy he had originally intended as Ñolofinwë’s partner in the Sport. The silent question entered into the spirit’s mind. The child remained ardent, the fire spirit deserved his chance as much as anyone else in the Halls did. Námo raised an eyebrow at the defiant youth before his eyes fell to the embracing brothers. He gave a nod, he would permit Fëanáro to finish out the Sport. What followed after remained to be seen. He reached down and stroked one thick furred ear, asking the child to watch them, he needed to speak with the others of the Valar about this development.


	8. This Rising Tide

The fire rippled through the door as the two elves passed between the ships over the water. Fëanáro frowned, his memory of this fuzzy for all that he recalled his purpose. “ _Why are we here?_ ” The elf frowned.

Ñolofinwë was about to answer when a scream answered for him, followed by a chorus more. “TELVO!”

They rounded a broken mast to find Fëanáro’s sons, four gathered around a fifth, clutching a half burnt body, the sixth stood off further down the shore, with the seventh nowhere to be found. The pair studied the hillock near the sand to find the figure of Fëanáro barking orders at the other elves over a map.

The water spirit froze, he had heard the story from the six elves on the sand. He saw Maitimo kneel next to Ambarussa, Makalaurë’s voice rose above the flames and waves in a dirge, Tyelkormo and Carnistir turned to Curufinwë. They attempted to aid their brother but he snapped away from them and stormed up the hill.

Ñolofinwë twisted to speak to the fire spirit, only to find the other had gone to kneel before his sons. He reached out for them, “ _Pityo, Pityo, I didn’t know… I swear, I swear if I had known… Please… I swear if I had known. Telvo, oh Telvo, I did this. I- I-_ ”

His voice broke in an incoherent scream. Ñolofinwë wrung his hands, between the screaming sobbing mess on the ground before him or the shrieking match at the top of the hillock. This was well outside of his jurisdiction as far as family matters. Fëanáro was entitled to his rage and guilt for his actions. Nothing he could say would ever change that. Thus the best the water spirit could do would give him his closest brush with death since he had entered the Halls of Mandos.

Careful and gentle, he drew Fëanáro to him as he cried. It was odd, he mused as his brother’s fingers prickled against his back, melting divots into his shoulders, in their time together he had never seen his brother cry in person. The idea of this weak, trembling elf in his arms being his awe inspiring older brother did not sit quite right in his mind. His fingers rubbed the flickering scalp, because right now, his brother needed a willing ear and shoulder, not the bickering mess their lives had been.

“ _Náro, will you listen to me?_ ”

Fëanáro nodded against his chest.

“ _I think you owe your sons, all your sons an apology._ ”

“ _But they knew the risks- they understood-_ ”

“ _Did they? Did you? Did any of us?_ ” Ñolofinwë countered. “ _You lived your entire life in Aman as I did. War was ill suited for both of us._ ” He sighed, eyes on the ripples of darkness creeping closer, “ _You are their father, their guide, they looked to you. You owe them, all of them, an apology._ ”

A sound came from the hill as the brawling forms of Curufinwë and Fëanáro toppled down it. Maitimo and Makalaurë pulled their father back while Tyelkormo and Carnistir restrained their brother. The fire spirit unwound from his brother, legs not willing to hold him. He swayed over to Ambarussa, alone on the beach, hands wrapped around a scrap of brocade he recognized as Ambarto’s.

“ _Pityafinwë, Telufinwë, what I did was unworthy of me as your father. As a parent it is my responsibility to care for you. Dragging you into my fight was a terrible decision, as it led to pain and suffering for you, all of you,_ ” he pause, eyes now turned to the rest of his sons, gathered around Ambarussa once more. “ _Curufinwë, I was blind in my rage, and in my haste robbed you of your own family, left them to a wasteland of ice and death._ ” Fëanáro swallowed reflexively, as he was made of fire in this state his throat was supposed to be dry. “ _Makalaurë, Tyelkormo, Carnistir, I forced you to take actions that will haunt all of you. That was irresponsible of me as a parent. Maitimo,_ ” his attention turned at last to his oldest son, “ _you, I, in some ways, wounded worst of all. I made you watch this all unfold and made you take my place as father to your brothers._ ” He paused and his attention flickered about the beach, “ _where is the door?_ "

Ñolofinwë glanced around, that apology sounded heartfelt and sincere to him. That should have eased the problem enough to allow them passage. That was until the gentle rhythm of the waves broke. A figure crawled forth from the wreckage, purple flames ran in deep gashes around the body. This was smaller than the central shadows they had faced before, the face more distinct as well, rather than a parody of the person tied to the pain, this one had taken the form of Telufinwë Ambarto Fëanárion. The shadow Ambarto rose to his feet, scowling.

“Pretty speech, did you write it yourself?” The shadow barked. “You have no idea what we’ve gone through for you.”

“ _Telvo?_ ” Fëanáro’s eyes widened.

“Oh so now you remember me? Joyful!” He snarled. “You couldn’t even be arsed to look for me then! I _died_ because of you. You think that this happened and we all went about our lives happily after your death?” He stormed over, seized the fire spirit by the throat. “We joined in because we loved you, thought that if we did this we would have you back the way you used to be!”

“ _Telvo-_ ” Fëanáro growled.

“You don’t get to be angry at me! Because of you, we killed, we committed crimes beyond counting, we’ve suffered heartache and tortures beyond count, and you think a simple apology will cover that?!”

At that the fire spirit frowned, “ _what do you mean?_ ”

The not-Ambarto, because this was not how Ambarto would act Fëanáro reminded himself, flung his free arm towards Ñolofinwë, still seated on the sand. “Ask him. Ask him what happened to us! Ask him about how Nelyo was captured and tortured and it was only Findekáno who had the balls to rescue him. Ask him about how we all went our separate ways because we couldn’t bear one another any longer! Ask him how Lindëwen and Tyelperinquar could never forgive Curvo for abandoning them! Ask him!”

The shadow dropped him, and Fëanáro rounded on his brother. “ _Tell me!_ ”

Ñolofinwë stood and sighed, “ _what he says is true, Náro. Maitimo was rescued by my son. No matter how much I tried to dissuade their relationship. Your son passed me the crown because he would not lead a divided people, moreover he believed the Oath a personal matter that should not endanger innocents. As to the separate ways,_ ” he sighed, “ _that seemed to affect all branches of our family._ ” The water spirit hung his head, “ _as to the marital and familial strife suffered by Curufinwë, I was wholly in the dark on the matter._ ”

He gave a brief nod to the water spirit, “ _there. Now, Telvo… There is something I feel you should hear._ ” The elf spun on his heel and closed the gap between them to pull the figure of Ambarto into a hug. “ _I am unfit to be a parent, as I have wounded you deeply, all of you. As I’ve realized, a parent should not drag there children with them into this sort of darkness and despair. Had I been a better person and a better father I would have stopped you all from taking the Oath. I betrayed your trust in me, you most of all, for it was my hands that brought your end… Telufinwë Ambarto Fëanárion, I shall not ask you to forgive me, not even if the Silmarils rested in my hands and the hosts of Moringotto lay in ruins at my feet. No victory is worth the price of that. For what I did to you and your brothers, I am truly sorry._ ”

The shadow hissed but returned the hug before disappearing back into the darkness. A little way down the beach stood the door now. The water spirit approached his brother, whose eyes had turned to the sky. “ _Náro? Are you alright?_ ”

“ _No. Not really._ ” His voice was low, wavering with a thousand thoughts. “ _I thought I did the right thing. But how can it have been the right thing when it caused people I love and care for to suffer…_ ”

Ñolofinwë shook his head and sighed, “ _Náro…_ ”

“ _Pity me and I will strangle you._ ”

The water spirit placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, “ _the truth is always more painful than we ever know. But there we always be people who will help you find your way. You need only look_ ”

He let out a brief huff that might pass for a laugh, “ _such as you?_ ”

“ _Darling brother I am offended. Have I let you down once this entire voyage?_ ” The elf pouted.

That made a full belly laugh ripple from Fëanáro, “ _amazingly no._ ” He sighed and straightened, “ _perhaps you are actually helpful in a crisis after all. But,_ ” his gaze turned then to the door, “ _what do you make of this?_ ”

The door did not resemble the usual stained glass split between the two of them. This was a door of fire, with bony spectral shadows clawing their way along the frame. Above the door they could see a silhouette of an elf in fire behind three vast black shapes with deep set glowing eyes. The door itself seemed to be made of bone, and a quick touch told both of then this was correct. Carved into the bone were scenes of brutal war, and an army badly outnumbered.

Ñolofinwë thought back to his meeting with the Master of the Halls prior to this adventure. “ _This must be your version of Death’s Door. If you pass through this and overcome it, then you are re-embodied after your partner completes theirs._ ”

A scowl creased Fëanáro’s face, “ _so my second chance at life hinges on you overcoming your challenge?_ ”

“ _No, but it is part of the game that both people see it to the end of both of their lives._ ” His brother shook his head, “ _so shall we see what lies beyond Death’s Door?_ ”

The fire spirit steeled his heart and pressed his hands against the skeletal ones that made the panels to push on. With a heave the doors creaked open and the pair passed through them.

~~~~~

The development that Fëanáro had passed through the final door of his former life brought Námo to freeze in his tracks. Little brought the Vala pause anymore, but this he had not anticipated would be the outcome. His mind drifted through his Halls; two foxes tussled near a stand of trees, two fire spirits reclined amongst the trunks, a stone spirit sat nearby in silent contemplation, while in the treetops a serpentine dragon watched them. Even in death the six departed sons of Fëanáro had found one another, though they would never know it. That their father had reached the point where re-embodiment was a real consideration brought him pause. The decree of his imprisonment had been given already, but Námo held to his own rules.

This required a deeper intervention than he thought. He disappeared into a special chamber within the Halls, accessible only to the Ainur who resided inside. Námo cast back his preferred form to study the ceiling and have a long conversation with the One.


	9. Death's Door - Fire Side

Fёanáro let out a low whistle as he studied the large door before them, “ _I suppose there is no way around this._ ” He set his hands upon the sturdy metal and wood, shoving it open. Much as with the room they stood in, a blast of fire sent the brothers sprawling to the ground.

Ñolofinwë stared at the large swirl of fire and shadow inside the frame as he stood, dusting off the crust of metaphorical sand. His eyes widened as a cadre of balrogs hissed and roared circling the portal. “ _Laid low by spirits of fire, are you quite certain it wasn’t the irony that killed you?_ ” He paused, waiting for a witty barb or bitter laugh, but when none came, his eyes fell to the fire spirit sprawled on the ground.

The burning coals of his brother’s eyes had widened while a faint frown, open mouthed creased his lips. It occurred to Ñolofinwë that he had never seen fear so thoroughly etched onto the fire spirit’s face. He leaned his head around the door frame and found a fire whip dangerously close to his face.

“LITTLE BOY YOU THINK YOURSELF A SPIRIT OF FIRE? YOU ARE BARELY A COLD PILE OF ASH IN A FORGOTTEN HEARTH! YOU DO NOT KNOW WHAT IT MEANS TO BURN!”

The whip lashed for Fëanáro, but seemed to completely bypass the other elf. For his part the water spirit ducked around and started to explore, the balrogs paid him no mind. He ducked behind the column of smoke behind one to find the battlefield covered in them, far as the eye could see. He realized that this couldn’t possibly be right, after all, it wasn’t like there had been _that_ many fire spirits. But then he realized that this was not as reality had been, but his brother’s interpretation of it.

Fëanáro had been alone, separated, trying to take on the world on his own against insurmountable odds. Ñolofinwë stamped down the guilt he felt for not being at his brother’s side. His logical mind and the part of him that still resented Fëanáro both said this was the fire spirit’s own damn fault. But this was not the time for the blame game, right now his brother needed him.

The water spirit crossed back out of the room and offered his hand down. “ _At a guess there are several hundred. You take the left, I take the right and we meet in the middle?_ ”

“ _I can handle this, I don’t need any aid. I will conquer them this time. That I promise you._ ” Fëanáro’s jaw clenched as he rose, then with a bellow, launched himself forward using a burst of flames. Ñolofinwë scowled, most people would have learned from a mistake, Fëanáro however was likely to call it a data point and keep collecting them before he could establish a trend.

Still he gave chase, water whips dancing through the air. And dancing was all they did as they passed harmlessly through the ranks of balrogs. The walls of shadow and spite closed in around Fëanáro as he tackles one, beating it to death with his hands. A second seized him from behind and flung the elf off into the distance. Ñolofinwë scowled as the host advanced in the direction of the flying fire spirit.

Why did they pay him no mind? He had done his best to provoke them as easily as his brother had. So why did they seem to ignore him?

A thought occurred to him, they had ignored him because Fëanáro had ignored him. “ _You arse faced baboon, of course they don’t care. Náro doesn’t think he needs help to conquer a task posed a second time. He’d keep running into a brick wall if it meant that he wouldn’t need help._ ” It would explain also why his sons were nowhere to be found. To give his brother the benefit of overwhelming doubt, Ñolofinwë guessed that some small part of it was rooted in concern for their safety. On the other hand when Fëanáro put his mind to something he would keep at it in the face of overwhelming odds. A trait they inherited from their father most likely.

Off in the distance a scream of pain and despair sounded. Ñolofinwë sprang forth, “ _not this time! Not this time!_ ”

He dashed his way through the sea of fire to the center, where Fëanáro lay in the dust, molten blood dripped from gashes littering his body. The elf choked, “ _you shall not best me a second time. I refuse! Do you hear me!_ ”

Ñolofinwë slowed to a walk, not wanting to waste this moment, “ _of course they shan’t. For though all the world stands against you, you still have me, brother._ ”

“ _I don’t need you for this, Ñolo, this is not my first encounter with these vermin._ ”

As the fire spirit spoke, another flaming whip closed in around his neck and flung the offending elf through the air back and forth several times. Ñolofinwë winced at the first three smashes, but recovered in time to slice through the fire whip with his own. Fëanáro crumpled to the ground in a manner most unbecoming for a former king. The water spirit stepped over to him and offered his hand down once more. “ _Come on, Náro, we can take them together._ ”

Fëanáro lifted his head as the other elf knelt to aid him. “ _You’re serious?_ ”

Ñolofinwë smiled, “ _of course I am._ ” He cocked his head, “ _between the two of us, no one can stop us. I went to Endórë to help you because I believe in you. Yes you are an insufferable pig sometimes and I want to smack you, and you have hurt me time and again, but what better time than now to try again to be brothers? I’ve always admired you when you were at your best, and right now, you’re more the elf I admired as a boy than ever._ ”

The fire spirit chuckled, “ _you mean lying here in a pool of what passes for my incorporeal blood?_ ” He closed his eyes, “ _I suppose you would find that agreeable._ ”

“ _That’s not what I meant Náro._ ”

“ _Then what is?_ ”

“ _You, just the fact you got this far, and that at the beginning I had no faith either of us would make it through this, and now here we are, through the first stage of Death’s Door. Together. Now, big brother, shall we show these find fellows what happens when they mess with the sons of Finwë?_ ” Ñolofinwë explained, eyes focused on the injured elf.

Fëanáro nodded as he clasped the offered hand, “ _aye little brother, if I am to meet my end once more, I would do it with you by my side._ ”

The water spirit hauled him to his feet as the balrogs jeered. He held up a very obscene gesture at them. “ _Now then, Ñolo, what was your plan again? Fifty on the left for you and the fifty on the right for me?_ ”

“ _More or less, yes._ ” The crack of a water whip punctuated the statement.

“ _Last one to clear their half buys the drinks upon our return._ ” Fëanáro cracked his knuckles, flames licking his palms.

The pair nodded and went back to back. They launched into the fray headlong. The spectral balrogs proved easier than some of their previous fare, and Ñolofinwë appreciated that their enemies seemed quite pleased to have another target. It took the duo what felt like hours to cleanse the battlefield. As the numbers dwindled they fell back on bickering and competing for kills. Of the last five each claimed two, but it was Fëanáro who trumped in the end as he let forth a blast of flames from his mouth. An attack which admittedly would not normally work were these normal balrogs, however the circumstances were different than before.

Ñolofinwë laughed as he retracted his water whips, “ _well met brother! Tell me have you a preference for a drink upon our return?_ ”

“ _A bottle of absinthe, no sugar. That was far more excitement than I can stand for a while. I hope your door is not so dramatic._ ” The elf stretched with a sigh.

The most the water spirit could muster in answer to this was a nervous laugh that was the most false laugh in both the history of laughter and lies. “ _Uh look, here come your sons!_ ” He gestured swiftly to the distance where six armor clad figures had started to approach, bearing a body, the dulcet tones of the Fëanáro in their arms screaming every obscenity imaginable as they watched.

The deceased fire spirit rolled his shoulders with a sigh. “ _Well all things considered that was the end I deserved, burning to death cursing everything. I really fell off of my own pedestal in the end._ ” He watched his sons huddled around him, all in shock and mourning, “ _boys, I wasn’t the father you needed when you needed me most of all. I wasn’t the son or successor worthy to my parents throne, I wasn’t the brother my siblings needed most. I wasn’t the king my people needed in their time of mourning, and my own hubris led us here. I swear when I get out of here I will set things right._ ”

An unknown emotion swept over Ñolofinwë at that declaration, an emotion he had felt towards his other siblings. Without thinking, he reached forth and pulled Fëanáro into a hug. He loomed over the smaller elf, and held him firmly in a steam laden embrace.

The other froze. He was not used to being hugged anymore. Especially by Ñolofinwë of all people. “ _Arakáno…_ ” He growled.

“ _Yes big brother?_ ” He grinned, Fëanáro’s head against his sternum.

“ _You are_ hugging _me._ ” Came the snarl.

“ _Yes I am._ ”

Two hesitant arms wrapped around the water spirit. “ _If you tell_ anyone _about this…_ ”

Ñolofinwë rolled his eyes, “ _yes, yes, I know, strangle me in my sleep, sew sheep dung into my mattress, I know. Now shut up and enjoy your hug._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, now that WtG has wrapped, I will put most of my time into this since there's only a few more chapters. My real life things have started to settle so I have more time to write. Thanks for being patient and supportive!


	10. Calm Before the Storm

The next door was odd in that it appeared to be one of the normal ones, except Ñolofinwë’s picture had come to dominate the frame. “ _Huh,_ ” the water spirit mused, “ _I suppose that since we have finished your life it’s down to just my last few memories._ ”

Fëanáro let out a sigh of relief, “ _good, any more of this family bonding and I might actually be smothered by you._ ”

The other elf laughed, one hand on the door, “ _come then, the sooner we conquer this, the sooner we can leave. I owe you a drink as I recall._ ”

“ _That you do,_ ” he grinned as they pushed it open. The dark bedroom with shuttered windows and thick blankets piles on proved a strange juxtaposition to the peril of Death’s Door. Fëanáro’s hand rose, illuminating the room. Buried among the blankets and furs lay his oldest son, emaciated, bloodied and with his upper right arm wrapped in bandages to where his elbow should have been. “ _Ñolo… What happened to my son?_ ”

“ _After you died, he was taken captive and tortured by Moringotto-_ ”

Before Ñolofinwë could finish his statement shouting came from outside. “What were you thinking Findekáno?! Your brother and sister are already speaking of leaving and with Arakáno-”

“I’m tired of sitting here feeling sorry for myself, I had to do something!”

“And what if you had died?! What if both of you had died?! Did you even think of that?!”

“I fail to see what the problem is!”

“You’re starting to sound like Fëanáro.”

“I- you- I hate you Father!” The door opened to reveal Findekáno, eyes bright with tears as he flung the door shut in his father’s face. Once the lock had clicked the elf threw himself onto the chair beside Maitimo’s bed sobbing into the furs.

Fëanáro heaved a sigh, “ _I see I’m an inspiration to all._ ” He settled on the bedside, his free hand attempting to stroke his son’s head.

Ñolofinwë sighed and leaned against the wall opposite him. He gestured to Findekáno, “ _Arakáno and Elenwë died during the crossing and I think that was where my trouble truly began… Turukáno and Írissë declared their intentions to leave and Findekáno went alone with a harp and his bow and quiver into Angband and rescued Maitimo from where he had been chained to the side of a mountain by his wrist. Findekáno cut him down at the wrist, but the healers had to remove everything to the elbow as some sort of curse had set into his flesh._ ” He sighed, “ _Findekáno was always to hasty for his own good sometimes. I had told him there was little hope of finding Maitimo alive or dead._ ”

“ _And the rest of my boys?_ ” The fire spirit asked, quietly.

The elf sighed and ran a hand along the nearby windowsill. “ _Makalaurë was trying to keep the peace, but those five were at one another’s throats. Some wanted revenge, others wanted nothing to do with the Oath, and others wanted to wait and regroup first._ ” He gave a bitter smile, “ _I don’t think anyone was as glad to see me as Makalaurë was the day I rode to his encampment and started barking orders._ ”

The fire spirit chuckled, “ _he never was a terribly fantastic conductor except in his own mind._ ” His face fell as he continued, “ _I take it he told you what happened?_ ”

“ _Yes, and that was when we found out about you, Ambarto, and Maitimo. As I said, Findekáno wanted to look for him. Honestly, I told him what I did because I needed his support, and if Tyelkormo, second greatest huntsman of the Ñoldor, even he admitted Írissë was better-_ ” he countered he argument hovering on his brother’s lips, “ _but he went anyway…_ ”

Fëanáro bristled at the idea of his brother so callously abandoning his son, until his eyes found Ñolofinwë’s face. A crushing guilt had settled into his features, tears just at the corners of his eyes. It had pained the water spirit to declare such a thing, his nephew dead and gone to his own son. The fire spirit’s gaze fell to Findekáno, still sobbing into the furs. He petted his nephew’s head, “ _I realize that you can’t hear me, but thank you for what you did. I know my son cares deeply for you, and you have repaid his faith. I don’t know if anyone told you, but on the far shore, he asked for you, wanted to send the boats for you._ ”

Ñolofinwë tilted his head, watching, even as the thin lines of tears trickled down his frosty cheeks. “ _He did?_ ”

“ _Yes._ ”

“ _He will be thrilled, I am sure. Náro… Why are you doing this?_ ”

“ _Why am I doing what?_ ” The elf frowned.

His brother straightened, " _why are you still here, with me in this place? My family abandoned me. Turukáno ran off to found a hidden city without telling anyone. Írissë, Arakáno, and Elenwë died… And I don’t think Findekáno or Anairë shall ever forgive me._ _You of all people who hate me most of all, you are here, listening and supporting me when I drove everyone else away to their deaths in some cases… So why are you still here?_ ”

The fire spirit mused on the question as he stood and strode about the room. The glowing ball of fire in his hand cast long flickering shadows about them. “ _Because when I see Nelyo here, helpless and weak, and I did nothing, you stepped in. A lesser person would have held Alqualondë and Losgar against him, let him die for his crimes that I forced him into committing. But here he is, safe, and cared for in the company of his love, and you saw to it._ ”

“ _You give me too much credit._ ” He deflected, curling in on himself, “ _but you said ‘his love’?_ ”

Fëanáro chuckled, “ _I did at one time have a keen grasp of my sons minds. The way that Nelyo looked at Findekáno said it all. If they had acted on it, I would have given my blessing, at least in the time before…_ ”

“ _Before you lost your way?_ ”

“ _Aye._ ”

Ñolofinwë sank to his knees, “ _then I kept them apart… I told Findekáno not to act on his feelings for fear of your retribution._ ”

The fire spirit knelt down beside his brother and wrapped him in a gentle hug. “ _Then let us be rid of this place and give our boys our blessing. Who knows, perhaps those two eloped once we died?_ ”

Ñolofinwë stiffened.

“ _It was a joke, Ñolo. I am certain they had a proper wedding of some form or another._ ” The tension drained from the other elf as he laughed, Fëanáro rolled his eyes. “ _You missed your opportunity with that one._ ”

The jubilant noise faded as the water spirit curled close, steam hissing gently in their ears. “ _You didn’t really answer my question Náro… Why are you still here?_ ”

He smiled, “ _because it is the responsibility of older siblings to watch out for their younger ones, is it not? And I suppose better late than never. You supported me through this endeavor, why should I not do the same?_ ”

Ñolofinwë sucked in a gasp as he pointed over the other’s shoulder, “ _because of that_.”

Across the bedroom, the other version of Death’s Door had appeared. This one featured ice and fire and shadow all twisted around in scaled patterns, dragons, werewolves, spiders, orcs, vampires, and other dread creatures etched into it. At the top sat a jagged iron crown with three shining gems.

In the tone of a long suffering brother who’s younger sibling has just come running around the corner with twelve kinds of trouble on their heels, Fëanáro asked, “ _Ñolofinwë Arakáno Finwion, what did you do?_ ”

The wavering answer came from beside him as his brother inched forward. “ _Do you remember how I talked about my children dying? It wasn’t just them and Ambarto… Aro’s children, thousands upon thousands more… There was no hope. So I, in the throes of such utter and complete despair, asked myself what you would do._ ”

The fire spirit rolled his eyes, “ _a statement which I am rapidly coming to realize means you did something so world shakingly asinine that no one in their right mind or out would ever let you live it down._ ”

Ñolofinwë swayed to his feet and pushed the door open. Shards of rock flew through the portal as a horn blast deafened them. Fëanáro also stood, wide eyed at what laid beyond the frame.

~~~~~

Back outside near the pool, the young prairie jackal scooped a small star-nosed mole away from a cluster of black, thorny roots and set him on the edge of the looking pool. The jackal let out a yip of support as Death’s Door appeared before he began bathing the mole, more out of reassurance of safety than any actual hygiene. The two observed as the elves bantered, the mole drumming his claws nervously against the colorful tile. However a gentle rustle of fabric distracted both of them, the mole cowering behind the jackal. Námo pushed his hood back and gave a gentle paternal frown at the jackal. He was in some degree of trouble, but to answer for it, he had been summoned.

The jackal protested, declaring he wanted to watch and had to keep the mole safe. Námo rubbed the bridge of his nose, before he waved his hand and cast the youth through the Halls to the chamber where he would give his defense of his actions. The Vala scooped the mole to his palm and withdrew a flask of miruvor from his robes. The mole drank while Námo returned his attention to the brothers. The moment of truth drew nigh.


	11. Death's Door - Ice Side

The brothers stepped through the doors, once more faced with the gates of Angband. “ _Ñolo, allow me to reiterate, what did you do?_ ”

“ _I er… Well here I come now._ ” The other elf spun about as the door closed behind them. Down the ashen path came a warhorse with an elf of such unbridled rage that Fëanáro had to do a double take. He had never before considered that Ñolofinwë had looked like him. But in that moment he could see the resemblance.

The figure pulled to a halt and let off another blast of his war horn before dismounting. The warrior gave his horse a brief pat on the neck and the horse turned and galloped back up the path. The armored Ñolofinwë strode towards the water spirit and the former faded into the latter. “COME FORTH CRAVEN MASTER OF SLAVES! ANSWER FOR YOUR CRIMES AGAINST THE HOUSE OF FINWË AND ALL FREE FOLK!”

Fëanáro cringed for a moment, hands clapped over his ears. “ _Well if he didn’t hear you then I’m certain the echo shall-_ ”

At that moment the oddly shiny top of the hill just visible behind the gate shifted as if moving aside. A colossal figure strode forward, fire and ash danced about as a cloak of living volcano. Lines of lava dripped from the dragon head pauldrons, flowing down in a mantle behind the encroaching figure. Their skin was ice made flesh, a thousand shards and icicles formed the wicked smiling face while the very pits themselves burned as eyes. The figure might have been beautiful once, but long years of twisted thoughts and corporeal form had ruined that. Now the only beautiful thing, if they could still be called that were the Silmarils that rested on the crown atop the fallen Vala’s head.

Moringotto placed a hand on either side of the gate and shoved it open.

“ _Darling brother, you mean to tell me that your idea of what I would do would be to ride to the gates of Angband, issue a challenge, and fight Moringotto in single combat._ ” Fëanáro deadpanned as they watched the lord of slaves draw forth Grond from the mountainside. “ _On the one hand I laud your keen insight into my mind. On the other, if I in my madness thought it would be a good idea, it is very obviously not._ ”

“ _While I realize this quite thoroughly validates every time you called me an idiot, we really don’t have time for this!_ ” Ñolofinwë spun and kicked him as the first hammer fall rent the ground where they once stood.

The fire spirit skidded to a halt, refocusing on the task at hand. They had to clear this room, together, it was only fair, Ñolofinwë had come to his aid, and now he owed his brother the same. “ _Ñolo! Try to pin down that hammer._ ”

“ _What good will that do?_ ” He shouted using his whip to swing to safety on the cliff side.

“ _It’ll mean one less thing to worry about._ ” Fëanáro countered, studying the armor for any weakness. “ _Out of not so idle curiosity how did this go the last time?_ ”

“ _I stabbed him in the foot, nailed him with my sword six more times, and succumbed to my wounds just as Thorondor the Mighty descended from the skies._ ” His brother answer, trying to use both whips to hold the hammer back. Unfortunately all this accomplished was sending said water spirit hurling through the air to collide with his brother. The pair crumpled into a heap of steam and regrets. “ _Excellent plan, Náro, really top notch._ ”

“ _Shut up, I’m not the one who picked mortal combat with a being on par with a Vala as my preferred method of dying._ ” The fire spirit countered as they untangled themselves. The hammer crushed down on them, but Fëanáro had summoned his flames and had turned them into a shield. “ _Any ideas?_ ”

“ _You seem to be melting the hammer quite effectively. If you could melt a hole through the armor, I could try freezing one of my whips into a really big spear and hurling it into him._ ”

It was better than their previous attempt at a plan. Fëanáro nodded, “ _I don’t know how long you’ll have once I melt through so make that shot count._ ”

“ _Right._ ”

The hammer rose and the brothers scattered before the next impact. The illusory Moringotto screamed in frustration and gave chase after Ñolofinwë, until a fireball caught the back of his neck. “ _Oi, you want a fight? Pick on someone your own age._ ”

Ñolofinwë skidded to a halt as the Vala rounded on his brother and began to concentrate on the whip in his hand. He hadn’t actually thought to try this before but if Fëanáro could summon a giant fireball there was no telling what he could do.

For his own part, Fëanáro darted around the battlefield, shooting blast after blast of fire into the black armor. It seemed to be slowly but surely chipping away, but at this rate it would take centuries just to get to flesh. He needed to punch through and fast. An idea struck him, and he sprinted for Moringotto, sending bursts of flames from his palms and feet. He rocketed through the air and landed on one jagged breastplate. Now at point blank, the fire spirit began to melt his way through in earnest, drilling a hole upwards to the heavens. The two gargantuan hands tried to claw for him, but retreated at the heat emanating from the elf. As his body began to shake, unable to sustain the fire any longer, the armor cracked and fell to the ground. He slipped onto the fallen Vala’s shoulder and waved.

A split second later a spear made of ice the size of a tyrannosaurus rex hurled through the air and through Moringotto’s chest. Their opponent keeled over with a baleful shriek. Fëanáro fell to the ground as well only to be caught in his brother’s arms. However the water spirit could not sustain the gesture and they both collapsed, exhausted.

“ _Well, we did it._ ” Fëanáro’s chest heaved, though he required no air.

“ _That we did._ ” Ñolofinwë laughed, “ _we work well together._ ”

“ _I suppose we do._ ” The fire spirit smiled, “ _you’re a good person and a fine brother, Ñolo. It has been an honor to stand by your side this day._ ”

“ _Wait what? Did anyone else hear that_ ” He rolled onto his side.

The other elf rolled away from him, “ _I am not repeating it._ ”

“ _Can I get it in writing?_ ” The water spirit beamed. “ _I want to frame it and put it on my larder door._ ”

“ _Ah, such a place of honor brother, my remarks of adoration shall live between the grocery list and Arakáno’s doodles as a toddler._ ” Fëanáro rolled his eyes.

Ñolofinwë shrugged, “ _would you prefer the water closet? Or the ceiling above my bed?_ ”

“ _Now you’re just being an arse._ ”

The water spirit paused, “ _I suppose I am. Sorry._ ”

“ _It’s fine, how many years have we been at one another’s throats?_ ”

They sat up as the elf answered, “ _too many._ ”

The fire spirit offered out a hand, “ _perhaps this time we’ll get things right._ ”

“ _I look forward to it._ ” They shook hands as their field of victory faded away into the void they had begun their journey in.

Námo stood, cloaked and hooded once more, motioning them to stand. Both elves rose to their feet, Ñolofinwë brushing himself off despite not actually being covered in dirt. The Vala’s voice echoed around them, “Ñolofinwë Arakáno Finwion, through trials and dangers and death itself you have come to stand before me. You have proven that you have healed from the traumas of your past and are ready to rejoin the living. Will you accept the offer of a new body and a new beginning?”

Ñolofinwë glanced to his brother before nodding, “ _I shall._ ”

The Vala heaved a sigh before he turned his attention to the other elf, “Curufinwë Fëanáro Finwion, though you have shown just as great of courage as your brother, you were never meant to play my Sport at his side. The player I had intended for him broke the rules to allow you entry. Did you know of this?”

“ _No I did not._ ” Fëanáro shook his head.

“ _Neither did I._ ” His brother added.

Námo observed the two elves before he agreed, neither of them had been a participant in the infraction, only the consequences. Which unfortunately still left him in a bind, as he had passed sentence on Fëanáro himself for the elf’s crimes, but said elf had also shown genuine remorse for some of them and would likely feel more regret from them in the future. It was the best way for the elf to heal, out in the world with his actions. For a second time this Sport, he would need to call upon the One to figure out what to do next.

The Vala lifted a hand, “Ñolofinwë Arakáno Finwion, you are released from my Halls and care, follow the Gardens and walk in the waking world once more.”

Ñolofinwë straightened, “ _thank you, my Lord._ ” He watched a thin sliver of light open before him. “ _Náro, take care of yourself._ ”

“ _You too. And Ñolo?_ ” The fire spirit strode towards him.

“ _What?_ ”

Fëanáro pulled him into a hug, “ _I would ask you to take this back to my family for me._ ”

The water spirit laughed as he reciprocated. The brothers broke apart, Ñolofinwë stepped towards the light and disappeared through it. Fëanáro’s attention returned to the Vala, watching the fire spirit with a contemplative frown.

“Come Curufinwë Fëanáro Finwion, we have much to discuss and do.”


	12. Epilogue

The sunlight trickled down between the willow leaves, mottled by the shadows of people. A low gasp went through the silent crowd as he stirred, several of the surrounding people now collapsed in a pile atop him, holding him close.

Ñolofinwë Arakáno Finwion awoke to his eldest son, youngest son, and granddaughter all embracing him. He glanced around to find Turukáno, Anairë, Arafinwë, Findaráto, along with a human and elf he did not recognize all gathered around him. He was about to laugh when he caught sight of one of the attending Maiar, watching passively, holding a set of grey clothes. He blinked and wiggled his way out from under the pile of grown children. The Maia passed him his clothes and his family all waited while he dressed.

The cadre allowed him to follow the Maia first as they left the safety of the Gardens and reached the gates. “Welcome back to the land of the living.” Their guide offered to Ñolofinwë before collecting the grey cloaks from the rest of the group. His eyes fell to the discolored marks along his sons’ faces, then to the same sort of marks along Findaráto’s face and throat. Fortunately Itaril appeared to have no wounds, at least none that he could see. It also appeared his daughter was absent from the group.

“I’m back.” Ñolofinwë started with a half-smile.

Arakáno let out a whoop and drew him into another hug, “woo! Dad’s home!”

“That was right in my ear,” the newly re-embodied elf yelped. His son backed away, embarrassed. Anairë approached him then, “Anairë I-”

She hauled off and decked him in the nose, and sent him sprawling to the ground. The elf sank to her knees beside him and pulled his now aching head to her chest, “you absolutely wretched man, you utterly imbecilic fool… Do you have any idea how worried about you I’ve been?” She sniffled and Ñolofinwë glanced up to see tears shining in his wife’s deep black eyes.

“Beloved…”

“Don’t you beloved me!” She kissed him.

For their part Arafinwë scratched his head and glanced to his eldest son. Findaráto shrugged, for what else could he do. Itaril poked her head around her father’s and Findaráto’s shoulders, “Grandpapa when you have a moment, I’d like to introduce my husbands!”

“Husbands?” He gave a bemused smile between tear-stained, angry, happy kisses.

Turukáno watched his father and uncle’s uncomfortable reactions to the statement. “Yes, she has two, both fine, upstanding gentlemen if I say so myself.”

Ñolofinwë fell back onto the dusty road, _I don’t envy you right now, but if they let you out, Náro, may you come back to as many joys as I have._ He stood up, wiping the dirt from his grey clothes, “alright, who wants to start catching me up?”

“I do!” Arakáno bounced, “and rally up a sled team, because you’re in for a ride, Dad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this everyone! I never expected this to get as popular as it did, I am so glad I could make your days a little brighter. For those of you wondering about what happened to our favorite hothead Finwean, the rest of the "Coming Home" series is going with canon, the whole held in the Halls until Dagor Dagorath jam. But for those of you curious about the meetings with Eru and that whole catch-22, head to my author page where you will find the first chapter of a long haul "what if he came back" fic.


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